Turnabout Intentions
by Stoccarda
Summary: 2 years since AJ: drug dealing, a corpse, a murderer no evidence. Phoenix gets stuck right in the middle of it this trial is going to turnabout the friends' entire lives.As IC as possible but explicit pairings


Disclaimer:

Authors: Think about it guys. If we did own the rights of Phoenix Wright (that has a nice ring to it^^), do you really believe we would be writing this FF? Well?

Damn right, we would not! We'd be sitting at some beach, drinking cocktails…

Edgeworth: You do realize you're wasting internet space by putting up this pathetic excuse of a disclaimer?

Authors: You do realize we're just putting it up so that someone like you won't sue us?

Edgeworth: …

This FF is brought to you by Pandora's game and Stoccarda_tt

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Turnabout Intentions

Chapter 1 – Hot tires and cool feelings

Squealing tires announced the arrival of the red cabriolet veering over the edge of the parking lot. After missing a small silver car only by mere centimeters, the "red lightning" got into the right lane of the slow-moving afternoon traffic which eventually would easily turn her twenty minute ride into an hour of crawling around in the streets of L.A.

If one added the omnipresent and unbearable heat wave, one could tell that neither her mood nor her car ride was going to improve soon.

Every red light and every incompetent road user proved to be a real test of her patience.  
Finally - after what felt like an eternity - she was able to overtake some of the annoying cars and reached her destination.

Stopping in front of the underground car park's barrier, she got her ID from her briefcase and pulled it with a swift move over the card reader. After passing the now elevated barrier she let the car roll freely down a ramp, only pulling the brakes when she reached her traditional spot in section A.

She grabbed her suitcase and soon one could hear the clicking sound of her stilettos resounding in the poorly illuminated place. Just before entering the building through a massive metal door, she locked her car waving her remote control carelessly over her shoulder, never sparing a second glance.

Her green gloved fingers pushed the button for the elevator and once again she lost precious seconds waiting impatiently for this godforsaken machine.

Really, she needed to get rid of all of this bottled up aggression… and she knew exactly where she could find a convenient outlet…

Finally the elevator arrived and a few minutes later she rushed out of the small cabin, aiming right for an elegantly paneled door.

This innocent door - whose only crime was to stand in the way between her and her destination - was quickly and forcefully flung open. Without saying a word to the stunned secretary she crossed the ante chamber and entered the actual office.

And there he was, sitting behind his outrageously huge desk in his outrageously comfortable leather chair: The district prosecutor, who now simply raised one eyebrow at her impertinent behaviour. He knew better than to say something and calmly waited for her to burst… which she did, slamming her suitcase loudly on his desk.

"He's gone and done it again! Once more this bastard has slipped through our fingers! And we still don't have sufficient evidence to charge him. I can't believe this!"

The man sat up, looking her straight in the eye.

„I think the most important thing right now is for you to calm down, dear sister."

Her hand – which had been hidden inside her suitcase – shot out at the speed of lightning and with a fluent and all too well rehearsed flick of her wrist, her whip found its target right beside his head, grazing the black leather of his chair.

„Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down as long as this foolish fool doesn't get punished for his foolish foolishness?!"

He couldn't help but flinch. Even after all this years of connaissance with Franziska's whip, he still had not grown accustomed to it… who could blame him?

Already at the tender age of four, she had felt attracted to this handy instrument of torture and had managed to master it in perfection even before becoming a prosecutor.

He's been suffering the lashes of her whip for the past twenty years…

„Franziska, who exactly has slipped through your fingers again? I don't have the faintest idea what you are talking about."

Brushing the non-existent wrinkles off her green long blazer, she rolled up her whip but it still remained in her hand, ready to strike again at every moment.

You never know when there's time for the next punishment…

"Miles, don't act as if this was none of your business! Or as if you didn't know exactly what I'm talking about! Of course, you know who I mean!"

"Van Drake, this loutish lout, managed to wriggle out of his punishment once again. We are unable to supply the evidence we need to see him sentenced. He gets rid of every proof we could ever hope to find and he bribes or threatens every person who could provide sufficient evidence! This yobbish yob destroys every single proof! I'm so sick of it!"

As if to reinforce her point, she hit her heels hard on the marble floor.

With a sigh he rearranged the frills on the collar of his crimson coat.

The black cufflinks, the karma-green west and the golden linings on his suit only underlined the importance he beheld in his position.

"Of course, you are talking about van Drake, who else?"

He gently massaged his temples with an exasperated sigh. It has been a long day in court and there were still tons of documents to go through.

Those were the disadvantages of being the district prosecutor.

One year ago – after his return to L.A. – he had been more than just flattered when he was offered the position of district prosecutor.

It was not until after he had signed all the contracts when he began to realize what this new position really meant…

Drake had been causing trouble for some time now, yet managing to avoid jurisdiction every single time. And especially Franziska – being the daughter of his adoptive father Manfred von Karma – had a personal interest to see him pay for his deeds.

The majority of unsolved cases or acquittals in her account were directly or indirectly linked to HIM.

Up to now they had not been able to arrest more than some of the small fries; the majority of drugs and forged money had dissolved into thin air. Just like many important witnesses…

Van Drake's dark wheelings and dealings had cost countless lives.

And in addition to that he had had the nerve to make fun of Franziska and to threaten her…

… and absolutely no one ever made fun of Franziska von Karma!

Edgeworth had dared it a long time ago and he was still carrying the scars of his impudence on his back…

"I know what you mean, but our hands are bound. We cannot do more than investigate and charge him time and time again, no matter how much this aggravates me. This obnoxious swine thinks he can really get away with his noble façade and fictitious firms…"

The green haired woman interrupted his rant:

"… and that is exactly why it is high time to face him with our combined efforts."

"What are you referring to?"

She had caught his interest and she fixed him with her green eyes.

He knew that once she had created a plan in this scheming brain of hers, it was impossible to stop her.

"Well, first of all we need to have a private meeting with everybody. And then we will see. It is our duty to stop him and we damn well will, whatever the cost!"

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Hope you enjoyed the very beginning of our story.

In the next chapter we are going to be reunited with more old friends.

What have they been up to all this time?

Well, you'll have to wait, see… and leave a review so that we might be inclined to update the next chapter even faster ;-P

Edgeworth: I cannot imagine someone being bored enough to read this.


End file.
